


Impact

by Crockzilla



Series: Domesti-Kink with Spideypool [26]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angry Peter, Angst, Bondage, Dom/sub, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Flogging, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Impact Play, Kink Negotiation, Love, M/M, Subspace, tragic backstories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 12:29:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13341294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crockzilla/pseuds/Crockzilla
Summary: Nothing like a good flogging to help with those anger issues.





	Impact

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lost_Sanctuary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lost_Sanctuary/gifts).



> If you're following along, this takes place earlier in P&W's relationship, sometime after New and before Wait.

Peter loved Wade. He loved everything they did together. He loved all of the exciting, weird, scary, fun activities that Wade seemed to know all about. Every time his guy brought up a new game, a new kink, Peter tried it and it invariably ended up being his new favorite.

So it confused him that they hadn’t tried the one thing that Peter had asked for.

Wade seemed perfectly happy to spank the living dickens out of him with his hand or his belt, and the thought of either sent delicious shivers down Peter’s spine. And the belt seemed, to Peter, like a pretty serious customer – it could sting or it could be a more dull, thud-like hit (Wade was explaining to him all about types of impact) and it left what Peter thought were very pretty marks. He’d look at them in the mirror, even when Wade wasn’t looking with him, wishing that they’d stay longer, that they’d bruise more. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been hit and bruised before, so his obsession with “love marks” concerned him at first, but Wade had assured him that his reaction was perfectly normal and healthy.

But Peter knew there was more out there, much more out there, in the realm of impact play which, according to Wade, was what you called any kind of hitting activity. Peter wasn’t sure why you couldn’t just call them hitting activities, but regardless of what they were called, he wanted very much to try all of them.

Bucky had shown him some pictures on his phone that made his head spin. “It’s called a ‘quirt,’” his friend told him with a grin as Peter stared open-mouthed at the strange little implement. “The braiding makes it sting pretty badly, and then it gets you with that little forked tongue.”

Peter reeled as Bucky put his phone away so that Cap wouldn’t see them shopping for sex toys while on a mission. He was especially surprised because he’d gotten the impression (both from Bucky and Cap) that Bucky was not at all into serious pain. “How do you --?”

“The first half of this century was really kinky,” Bucky shrugged rather smugly. Peter briefly wondered if Wade’s ex-boyfriend would be willing to send them both back to the forties to have vintage weird sex, but then he thought better of it.

After that, he’d done his own research, reveling in the variety of implements out there – floggers, crops, canes, straps, cats, a tool for any possible sensation you might want to inflict on someone you cared about.

“Sure we can, Honey Bunch,” Wade had told him with a kiss when he’d eagerly shown him the websites he’d discovered and asked if they might try heavier play.

But they hadn’t yet. Wade kept saying they could, but it just hadn’t materialized. The couple of times Peter had asked about it, his normally enthusiastic fella had actually come up with excuses – they should try it when they weren’t tired, he hadn’t found the right flogger yet, wouldn’t he rather try shoving his entire arm up Wade’s ass tonight, etc.  

It was weird. It was very un-Wade-like. Peter could have ordered a flogger himself, set up their room like a sexy trap, and forced the issue, but he was sort of afraid that if he did that Wade would outright refuse him. So he kind of forgot about it – it wasn’t as if they didn’t do other extremely fun and interesting things with their sex life (and it turned out he could get his arm an alarmingly significant way into Wade’s ass with enough lube and a positive attitude).

 And so, of course, the issue got forced for him in the most unexpected and upsetting way possible.

Spider-man and Deadpool made a pretty darn excellent crime-fighting pair – it had always been true, but now it was also very romantic.

“After you, Webs,” Deadpool bowed graciously after blowing open the door to the secret mob lair they’d been tracking for weeks.

“What a polite mercenary,” Spidey giggled, stepping over rubble to enter the building. “How would you like to come home with me after this party?”

 But before DP could continue their flirty banter, the sound of a struggle rang from within the lair. They’d thought the place would be empty tonight, but both were more than ready for a fight as they hurried down a dark hallway towards the noise. They soon found themselves in an open, garage-like room, the sound of painful grunts and fists connecting with flesh echoing through the space.

Two big guys, who they knew to be part of the criminal organization, held the arms of a smallish, youngish guy. A third guy, not as big as the ones doing the holding, pummeled the smallish guy mercilessly. Spidey recognized the guy doing the hitting as the son of the boss of the organization – he didn’t recognize the young guy getting beaten, which probably meant he was an insignificant dealer who’d ended up on the wrong side of this spoiled asshole.

Spidey held a hand up to stop Deadpool from intervening. “Let me.”

Deadpool clapped his hands with a delighted squeal and perched himself on a crate, legs crossed primly, to enjoy Angry!Spidey.

Peter literally saw red as he watched the asshole punch the smaller, helpless guy hard in the stomach, his goons laughing at the painful, pitiful sound that escaped him. He pulled the guy backwards as he was prepping for the next punch, not even bothering to use web, just snatching him and throwing him clear across the room. He used too much of his strength. It felt good.

He could hear his blood pounding in his head as he turned to deal with the goons who were recovering from this sudden turn of events and coming towards him. He threw them both, hard, in the direction he’d thrown their boss, and it pleased him to hear the yowls of agony as they both landed on rich-asshole-bully.

“Run,” Spidey told the smaller guy who had been standing frozen, terrified. He registered that the kid hadn’t been seriously injured since he quickly ran from the room without so much as a limp. He then turned his attention back to the pile of human garbage he’d thrown in the corner.

He didn’t quip. He didn’t say anything. He just started hitting.

About the time both goons were unconscious and he was about to cave in the boss’s son’s spoiled, cruel face, he felt a hand on his shoulder. It didn’t grip hard, but it made him pause long enough to actually hear the asshole sobbing, begging him to stop.

“Hey, Spidey,” he heard a familiar voice speaking to him in a low, calm tone, “I think they get the point.”

Peter realized he was shaking. He unclenched the fist he had raised. He moved to check on the two goons (he’d only knocked them out, right? Surely he hadn’t lost control that badly) but Deadpool pulled him back gently by the shoulders. “I got this. Go wait for me outside, okay, Webs?”

Wade’s crime-fighting-only nickname for him made his chest tighten suddenly. He did as he was told, not wanting to look at the scene he’d created any longer.

“Are they okay?” he asked when Deadpool emerged from the lair.

“Okay? Oh my, no,” he replied, cheerfully, which at least let Peter know that they were alive. “They’ll think twice about beating up any more twinks in the future.”

Spidey protested that they should gather the evidence they’d come for, wait for the cops, but Deadpool reassured him that Queens’ finest were on their way and that there was more than enough for a conviction readily evident in the lair. “Let’s go home.”

Peter did not want to change back into his Peter-clothes, as Wade called them. It wasn’t like Deadpool hadn’t seen Spider-man kick some bad-guy ass before. But he’d never felt the need to intervene before. And, more importantly, he hadn’t seen him lose his cool when they were planning to go home and make grilled cheese and watch _Batman Returns_ and have sex and go to sleep curled around each other afterward.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing he’d said since they’d left the mob layer. His voice came out small, kind of raspy.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Sugar Bear,” Wade said in a light, warm way as he sat next to him on the couch, as if it was and wasn’t a big deal at the same time. “You know I don’t have a problem with de-lifening cock-nozzles who take advantage of helpless people.”

But Peter did, Spider-man did. Deadpool had stopped “de-lifening” people because Spidey had asked him to. And now he’d just about killed three people because they’d pissed him off.

“I kind of have some anger issues,” Peter told his boyfriend, trying to keep his voice from shaking as residual adrenaline coursed through him. “I know people think I don’t use all of my strength because I’m, like, innocent or soft-hearted or something, but – it’s actually because I sometimes have a hard time controlling myself.”

Wade nodded, his posture casual, open, supportive. Wade was really surprisingly good at shit like this.

“It was because the guy was so little, yeah?” he asked, gently. “The guy they were hurting?”

Peter nodded, closing his eyes briefly. It was stupid – they saved smaller people from bigger people all the time and he didn’t lose his shit.

They’d gone over each other’s tragic backstories the second night of their being an official couple. Peter had thought he’d kind of known what had happened to Wade, but turned out he’d had no idea. Wade had been held, tortured, abused, and brainwashed by not one but multiple organizations that were supposed to help him. Each time he’d gotten out and gotten somewhere he thought was safe, he’d been held, tortured, abused, and brainwashed again.

Wade had alternated between very angry and very sad as Peter had told him his backstory, and he’d finally excused himself to go cry in the shower for a moment because he’d evidently sworn to never ugly-sob around Peter again after his reaction to Peter’s profession of love. It was sweet, Peter thought, but kind of ridiculous – compared to what Wade had been through, Peter had had an idyllic childhood and easy sailing ever since.

Wade had every reason to lose control and almost kill a bunch of bullies.

“When I was in high school,” he began, knowing he owed an explanation, “I heard this one jerk picking on this other kid. The guy wasn’t even my bully, he’d left me alone before then. But the kid he was picking on was, like, even smaller than me. So I humiliated him.”

“How did you do that?” Wade asked, brightly.

“I asked him if having such a tiny dick threw off his balance when he walked.”

Peter found himself actually smiling a bit as Wade wheezed with laughter, clutching their couch cushions. “The thought of baby!you sassing a big ol’ fuckwad four times your size –“

“Well, the problem was, I did it in front of the crowd the guy was trying to impress,” Peter continued, his chest feeling somewhat less tight now. “So right after class that day, Asshole and two of his buddies caught me, and they held me while Asshole beat the shit out of me.”

Wade’s laughter had completely faded, and he sighed with what Peter knew was a mix of anger and sorrow. “But what made it special,” he said, stomach twisting as he got to the part that was relevant to his behavior that evening, “was that it was the first time I’d really been beaten up since I’d decided to use my spidey-powers to help people.”

“Oh,” Wade said, understanding finally. “I bet it was really hard to not throw those dicks across a room and beat them unconscious, huh?”

“It was,” Peter said with a bitter laugh.

“That makes sense,” Wade reassured, leaning towards him a little. “That’s trauma, Baby Boy – of course you don’t like being helpless or seeing other people helpless. It’s one of the many many reasons I am infatuated with you.”

Peter smiled a little as Wade’s fingers wrapped around his. “Well,” he said after a moment, “I don’t always not like being helpless.”

Wade grinned and scootched closer to him. “Well, of course -- pretend!helpless is always fun.”

“I think it’s mostly fun for me because of you.”

Wade made the sound he referred to as a “squoo,” and Peter dropped his head onto his guy’s shoulder. They sat in silence for a moment, letting themselves settle back into Peter and Wade from Deadpool and Spidey.

“Y’know,” Wade said after a time, “kink-as-therapy is a really shit idea that I would never recommend, but sometimes scene-ing can kind of – help a guy exorcize some bad ju-ju, as it were.”

If Peter were a dog, his ears would have perked up.

“I wonder if it would make you feel better,” Wade continued, “if I maybe tied you up and beat the hell of you with a flogger like you’ve been waiting so patiently for me to do.”

Peter thought that was a very good idea, and he told Wade so by making out with him enthusiastically before making them both grilled cheese.

They decided not to do the scene that night, since it was already late and they were both feeling out of sorts from Peter’s Anger Ball. Also, Wade said he needed to gather supplies and test out some restraints, which made Peter’s knees feel like gelatin.

They’d briefly considered doing a “take-down” scene, as Wade called it, that would start with Wade incapacitating Peter and forcibly tying him down, but they pretty quickly abandoned that idea. This was about Peter having control over his own helplessness, about making the choice to be helpless. It would be like lying over Wade’s lap for a spanking, but the ultra version.

Peter was incredibly excited, and his mind certainly drifted to what lay in store for him many times throughout that week. However, he also couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d done, the three people he’d beaten senseless, how out of control he’d felt. Every time he remembered, he felt sick, especially when he recalled that he’d done that in front of Wade – he thought of other times he’d let his anger get the best of him when Wade hadn’t been there to help.

All in all, he was looking forward to the weekend.

“Will I, like, bleed?”

Wade shook his head, but he didn’t look amused as Peter had been afraid he might. “Not with this kind of flogger, but you’ll get really red, and I should be able to make some extra pretty bruises.”

Mm, that sounded nice. Flogging just sounded nice all around. Peter kept thinking of the scene in the second _Pirates of the Caribbean_ movie where the scary pirates were going to flog Orlando Bloom and they held him down and ripped his shirt open and then Stellan Skarsgaard ruined everything by saving him. He may have watched that particular moment quite a few times. By himself.

“Can you tell me your colors, please?”

“Red for stop,” Peter said, looking Wade in the eyes the way he knew his guy preferred. “Yellow means something needs to change.”

“Good boy,” Wade said, sending a little thrill through him. “And you can also just say ‘Stop’ or ‘slow down’ or ‘ooh that’s no fun,’ okay?”

“What if,” Peter asked, trying not to feel stupid, “I get, like, so into it that I don’t register how much it’s hurting or something?”

When Wade was in charge of him, Peter felt different – relaxed, calm, sexy, and, though it made him blush to admit it, precious. He still liked to be himself, to be stubborn and a little difficult, mostly to make Wade take charge even harder, go a little less easy on him. Wade said that was called “bratting,” which he took offense to, even though Wade said it wasn’t a pejorative term and he enjoyed it as well. He just – liked how relaxed and happy he felt when Wade took a firm hand with him.

Wade had said this might be a little different. “If you go super far down and I think it’s too much, I’ll stop,” he promised him. “I gotchu, boo.”

Sometimes Wade was just so damn cute, even in Dom!mode, that Peter had to kiss him several times. He didn’t seem to mind.

Peter tried to take deep, calming breathes as Wade led him into their bedroom and started undressing him. This was part of the letting go. He resisted the urge to touch his sweet guy, to reciprocate his affection, which was very hard for him. (Wade insisted this was because he was a Hufflepuff and got super offended when Peter asked if that wasn’t the lame House – evidently the movies skipped over some super important details.)

He concentrated on being pliant, on allowing Wade to move him as he lifted his t-shirt up over his head. Peter’s hair got mussed in the process, but Wade fixed it for him, which made warmth flood Peter’s chest. He marveled at how exhilarating it was just standing there naked with Wade fully clothed.

“Are you ready, cutie?”

He was. Wade guided him to lay face down on their bed by himself, which felt weird – really comfy, but also kind of lonely. It helped when Wade picked up each of his hands in turn and kissed his wrists before fastening them into the restraints he’d rigged up – they didn’t have a four-poster, but Wade was clever and had used bunji cords in a way that he’d guaranteed would give Peter the sensation of being held down. Peter tugged experimentally on the soft material that held his wrists, and he was impressed.

Wade followed the same process with his ankles, and that felt weird, being naked and held with his legs spread apart. After the initial wave of anxiety, though, it only made him feel excitingly slutty. He arched his ass up a bit and kind of wished for Wade to just plow into him, but no – first things first.

“How do you feel, Pumpkin?”

Wade’s hand was on his calf, which was immensely comforting since he could only kind of see him out of his peripheral vision. “I’m good,” he said breathily, realizing suddenly that he’d gone from excited to ridiculously aroused in a matter of seconds.

He felt Wade’s hands on him – they’d talked about this, that just touching him all over first would kind of wake up all his nerve endings to make the main event even more intense. Wade’s hands moved up his legs, over his ass, up his back, and down his arms. He briefly squeezed his restrained hands, and Peter squeezed back to reassure him.

He heard Wade lift something off out of his Fun Bag, and then he saw it – just in his vision, the flogger they’d bought that week. Wade had declared it a perfect starting place, and Peter – well, he had no idea, but he thought it was kind of big. He thought they might start with the little, shorter ones, but Wade had assured him this one with its long, full, kind of soft leather lashes would be best.

Peter could feel his heart beating against the mattress.

“I’m gonna give you as much as I think you need,” Wade said, “and you’re gonna take every bit of it.”

They’d talked about different ways they might contextualize the scene, different things Wade might say. He’d asked if Peter wanted it to be a straight-up pretend punishment thing, but Peter could tell Wade was not comfortable with that idea and said they could walk it back from that. This was perfect.

“Yes?”

“Yes, sir,” Peter answered, quickly, now very eager to get going.

He heard a muffled sound, and then the first hit landed on his upper back with a thud. Peter gasped, more from anticipation than pain. It was – ooh. It didn’t hurt, yet, but now that he felt the weight, he could guess what it could do. It was a little scary.

He felt the lashes sweep off of his back, then come down again with the same thud. Shit, it felt – heavy. Hard. Almost like a punch, not like anything he’d expected.

He felt Wade move around towards his head and saw his guy’s face, considering him. Peter nodded to let him know that he was okay, and Wade stepped back to continue his work.

Three more hits, and now Peter felt how the ends of the lashes could sting. He actually yelped on the third one, more from surprise, but he felt Wade run rough fingers over the place on his shoulder where the ends had caught him.

The next few hits came down on his ass and thighs, which hurt and Peter whimpered, but this was a much more familiar pain – he knew what to do with this. That was clearly what Wade had in mind, because he focused there for a while, covering every inch of Peter’s ass and thighs with stingy licks. Peter twisted and whined, then yelped when the lashes wrapped around his right thigh and bit into the skin. It felt – oh, it felt great, the familiar excitement and humiliation of being hit in such sensitive, intimate places with the new sensation of all-over-at-once stinging.

It was almost a relief when Wade moved back up to his shoulders – the thuds still weren’t very stingy, but their weight wasn’t as scary anymore. The next several hits moved around, rhythmically up and down his back with the occasional strike to his ass and thighs to keep him guessing. Peter let out huffs of breath and whimpers, letting himself react to each hit in turn, feeling his brain go foggy in that wonderful way.

And then he was vaguely aware that he’d stopped making sounds at all, and he realized he’d also closed his eyes. He felt a sharp sting on his ribs, and he shuddered, but he didn’t feel the need to open his eyes. He heard Wade swear under this breath, his fingers immediately going to the spot – he must not have meant to do that. Peter didn’t care.

When Wade was satisfied he hadn’t hurt him, he continued, several hits landing on his shoulders so that the end of each lash stung. Peter heard himself groan, and he felt Wade lean over him, lips close to his ear. “Ooh my you look pretty – I think I’ll give you some angel wings, okay, Beautiful?”

Peter grinned and hummed happily without opening his eyes. That sounded excellent.

It was like getting a very weird massage, he thought vaguely as Wade rained down pretty heavy hits on his back. He could feel the sting, he could feel how each hit pummeled him, he could feel the restraints holding him down, could feel his helplessness against what Wade was doing to him, but – it felt like he was far down in a blanket, like when you’re super tired and get to take a nap and everything just sort of melts away. He had no idea how long they went on. He didn’t need to respond. He just needed to lay here and let Wade take care of him, give him as much as he needed.

The sound of the flogger landing on their hardwood floor startled him a bit, but then the feeling of Wade’s rough, gentle hands on his skin immediately soothed him again.

“My good boy,” he heard Wade say, “you did so good for me, took so much. All done with that, now.”

Peter whined a little – it had still felt really great when Wade had stopped, but he didn’t resist as his guy released his ankles and wrists from the restraints, kissing the skin where the binds had held him.

He felt the bed dip as Wade slid in next to him. “You’re really flying, huh?”

Peter only hummed again, happily, and nuzzled his nose against Wade’s shoulder as his guy pulled him close, careful not to touch his back. They lay there for a while, Peter feeling perfectly content and happy and – floaty, yeah, that was the best way to describe it. He was flying, just like Wade had said.

Gradually, his brain woke up a bit, and he realized that Wade was too quiet. He was always talkative during aftercare (okay, he was always talkative in general), praising Peter and telling him how pretty he looked and what he was going to do to him later and what yummy thing they were going to have for dinner, etc.

He then realized that he had been called exactly zero cute pet names for a number of minutes.

Peter opened his eyes and pushed up on his elbows to look at his guy and saw that – yep, something was definitely wrong. The second Wade noticed he was looking up at him, he gave him a smile, but it was only an approximation of the proud, genuine smile he always gave him after they played.

“Oh, babe.”

“I’m okay,” Wade said, stopping him from sitting all the way up. “You stay where you are while I get the Magic Goo.”

Peter stayed in place obediently as he heard Wade go to their bathroom and come back with the good-smelling ointment stuff they kept for particularly exciting spankings. He watched his guy carefully, noting how he winced when Peter made even the smallest hiss when his fingers touched a tender spot, how he looked like he was trying not to throw up.

“Come here,” Peter finally insisted, sitting up and pulling Wade to sit with him, hardly caring that he was getting goo all over the comforter. Wade looked like he might protest, but then sort of deflated, letting Peter pull him into a hug. “Please tell me what’s wrong?”

“Ugh,” Wade moaned, resting his brow on Peter’s shoulder, “please don’t aftercare me while I’m supposed to be aftercaring you, it makes my abject failure even abjecter than it already is.”

Failure? Peter held him back by the shoulders to look at his face. “What are you talking about? That was awesome, I was feeling super good.”

And that was the wrong thing to say, because Wade suddenly looked ashamed. Peter felt his heart break  a little. “I know -- I’m so sorry I tapped out, cutie, I just –“

Wade had tapped out. He hadn’t ended the scene – he’d gotten so uncomfortable that he had to stop before he’d planned to.

“It’s okay,” Peter comforted, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of Wade’s hands. “Did it – like, disturb you? To do that?”

He didn’t say anything but he pressed his lips together in a way that told Peter yes, that’s exactly what had happened.

“I swear this has never happened before,” Wade said with an attempt at a wry smile. “I think I didn’t expect to get so far, maybe – you were taking it like a fucking pro, and you were just really red, and I felt like I kept fucking up, and like I wasn’t—“

In control, Peter finished for him mentally. He’d felt like he was out of control of his own body. Peter knew how that felt.

“I’m so sorry, honey.”

Peter leaned in and kissed his sweet man on the temple. “Please don’t be – you did this for me, to make me feel better because I almost killed some dudes, and you didn’t want to do it in the first place, and I should have paid more attention to that.” 

 “Stupid,” Wade closed his eyes but didn’t pull away. “I should have just told you I was nervous like a motherfucking adult.”

“Maybe I should start asking you if you remember your colors before you top me,” Peter suggested with a smile, but Wade actually shrugged – it was not a bad idea.

Peter let Wade finish coating him with goo, because he was realizing something he’d kind of suspected – aftercare, which was what Wade called their little rituals after doing fun power-exchange stuff, was as much for the Dom person as for the Sub person.

The marks on his back did indeed resemble angel wings, which he was delighted to discover as they admired Wade’s handiwork in their big mirror. “I think you would have let me take your skin off, Sugar Tits,” Wade mused as they catalogued the marks that covered Peter’s body, none of them welted or broken but very bright red. “Maybe next time, I will.”

Peter kissed him. He didn’t say so out loud, but there would never, ever be a next time. Much as it made him sad to think of these marks fading, much as something inside him screamed at the thought of never experiencing that again, it was absolutely not worth upsetting his guy. Nothing was.

When they went to make dinner, Peter turned on their special 80s pop mix that consisted only of Cindy Lauper and Depeche Mode. He danced as he chopped veggies, though not quite as exuberantly as he would normally have because of his tender back side, but it still made Wade smile and giggle.

“You might have some real legit drop in a day or two, Baby Cakes,” Wade warned him as they plated their meal. “There’s a lot of yummy hormones running through that itty-bitty body right now.”

And he must have been right, because Peter felt so euphoric that he didn’t even make a face about the “itty-bitty” comment. “Maybe I can comfort myself by trying to fit both arms up your ass this time.”

Wade launched into one of his prolonged gasps. Peter scooped up a bite of the paella they’d made and popped it into his mouth, and Wade stopped gasping to hum at how yummy it was. They really were very good cooks.

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU to Lost_Sanctuary for this awesome idea!!!
> 
> Next up is Wade Wilson's Kinky Workshop for Hesitant Heroes, then sooo much more exciting kinky fun after that!
> 
> Let me know if you have requests, and come talk to me on tumblr! 
> 
> crockzilla.tumblr.com


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